


Kinktober (mostly) 2020

by stardustedknuckles



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Aftercare, Cockwarming, Cunnilingus, Eventual Smut, F/F, Face-Sitting, I just need them in sweaters and flannels, Kinktober 2020, Lingerie, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pre-negotiated Consent, Public Sex, Rated E for later chapters, Rope Bondage, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sickfic, Strap-Ons, Teasing, Wings, also handcuffs yanno, also these are gonna be fluffy, and I have a brand to maintain, beau getting turned on by almost dying, beau's got a fuck jacket, bondage as a grounding tool, casual rope bondage, gen recovery, it's fall that's what it's for, lots of modern au, so look out for that sweet sweet h/c too, stealth sub collar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:33:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 17,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26750683
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardustedknuckles/pseuds/stardustedknuckles
Summary: Collection of mostly kinktober prompts, mostly beauyasha, with some other pairings and perhaps some whump prompts combined or separate. I'm just vibin here. short chapters, you know the drill.Any prompt filled with more than about 1k words gets posted as its own fic as of day 5.I removed the tags that weren't b/y related because it occurred to me yesterday that I have become That Person in those tags. Sorry y'all! If I do a prompt for them I'll just post it separate. Weirdly, I did not expect for 90% b/y and I should have.Day 31: The End + BONUS CHAPTERBeauyasha, modern AU, rated M/E respectivelyGot a prompt for a dance club AU and it turned out to be a great end to this project. And then I got too invested and realized I wasn't done yet, so there's another part that's super explicit! Consent is pre-negotiated and described as such a little down the page. I love a darkfic now and then but this ain't that, we are still firmly in soft hours.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Comments: 89
Kudos: 294





	1. Day 1: Leaves/teasing

**Author's Note:**

> Shorter fills will go in this collection, longer ones may become their own standalone publications.

Beau stared up at the cloudless blue sky, ribs aching with laughter and covered in leaves, and thought this was the happiest she had ever felt.

The neighbor lady - Mrs. Henderson, because apparently they all lived in a sitcom - had a house with a big, open yard with a fence all the way around and a pool, covered for winter to keep out the leaves from the maple trees that dotted the landscape. In the summer, Beau came over to skim the leaves out of the water, so she figured it only made sense that she to come during the fall to skim them off the yard. And besides, there was very often a treat from the old lady's kitchen in it for her.

Mrs. Henderson's was a big yard, so they had come, Yasha and Beau - a rake, leather gloves, and a roll of black trash bags - and really, it wasn't _strictly_ Beau's fault that their huge pile was now half strewn back out. It was unforgivable that Yasha had never jumped in a pile of leaves, and when Beau gave her a shove it was with feigned distress that she was pulled under too by Yasha's flailing hand.

Now they lay face to sweaty face on the slowly browning grass, giggles starting to fade. Beau reached forward and moved some of Yasha's hair away from her cheek, teasing out a piece of leaf in the process. Yasha's eyes followed her hand, and she startled just a little when Beau's mouth met hers with a pleased hum. Beau's triumph was short-lived, however, as Yasha gripped the back of her head and deepened the kiss, licking into Beau's mouth and making her thoughts go fuzzier than the blue flannel that she'd tossed on just because she knew Yasha liked to see her in it. Her hand reached down to grasp the back of Beau's leg and yank her against Yasha's body with a strength that would've made her knees weak if she had been in any position where they were necessary.

Yasha pushed her own knee - black jeans, ripped knee, basically unfairly hot - in between Beau's and rocked it up, smiling as she swallowed the gasp Beau made at the pressure against her cunt through own jeans (blue, ripped, hot in a whole other way - and imminently in need of a wash).

Yasha's kisses moved from Beau's mouth to her jaw, becoming more insistent as she moved the collar of Beau's ratty, faded black t-shirt out of the way with her fingers to suck a dark bruise on her collarbone. "Too easy," she murmured into Beau's ear when she arched, as she always did at that, and she couldn't even find the words to contradict Yasha because her hand was rough on Beau's breast under the flannel and over the t-shirt and sports bra and it wasn't enough-

Yasha rolled off with a grin that almost went unnoticed and stood up, brushing herself off nonchalantly as a very dazed and indignant Beau blinked up at her from the ground.

"Hey!"

Yasha methodically rolled the sleeves of her own flannel (red and black, classic) up over her forearms, one eyebrow raised. "We still have to bag all these leaves before we go," she said. "And somebody messed up our pile."

Beau sputtered for a moment as Yasha started to walk away, came up with an automatic thought: "What are you going to do about it?"

Yasha looked coolly over her shoulder as she tugged her gloves back on. "Absolutely nothing if you don't get up here and help me."

Beau wasted a precious second more trying to cram her arousal back down in its box and slam the lid before she scrambled to her feet and nearly tripped picking up the rake. 


	2. Day 2: Kissing and Blankets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A sleepy morning spent snuggling after a good night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I got done and it was very soft, but it's kinktober and what better reason to just sprinkle in a little leather? I think it went well.

Beau woke on the first truly cold day of fall to the smell of coffee and an empty bed. The morning spilled down the wall from the open curtains and lounged across the bottom half of the blankets, paler somehow in the way of cold weather and shifting by degrees as the trees stirred outside. Shivering a little, Beau sat up and pulled the comforter around her shoulders, smiling softly as the gentle clink of the rings on the leather handcuffs brought back vague impressions of the night before. She stretched a little, reveling in sore muscles, before inching off the bed until her feet touched the sun-warmed carpet. Beau soaked in the heat for a moment, charging up like the world's sleepiest reptile, then shuffled her way into the main room of the apartment with a huge yawn.

Yasha sat at the table with her hands around a large mug, her vacant expression melting into a smile as she turned towards the sound. Beau paused for a moment, sleep-stupid and muzzy, at the sight of the same light pouring over the rumpled shoulders of Yasha's sleep shirt - because she wore shirts to bed even after fucking Beau senseless, and it shouldn't be so _adorable_ \- and tangling in her mussed hair.

She opened her mouth to say something sappy that probably contained the word "ethereal," but what came out was "pretty morning." Which - fine, okay, she hadn't really planned to throw herself down the apartment stairs today, but it was still early. Her schedule was flexible.

Yasha's lips pressed together, but the soft laughter escaped anyway as she pushed up from the table and stepped in close to set her mug down on the coffee table and kiss her on the forehead. "Good morning, sleepyhead." Beau smiled back in spite of herself, face flushing as she was forced to look away because wow, she was never going to get used to this, was she? Being soft?

Yasha picked up a gently steaming mug from the counter that Beau hadn't noticed and brought it to her. "Trade me?" Beau blinked sleepily before she caught up and forced her fingers to let go of the edges of the comforter and take the dark blue mug from Yasha. She breathed it in and shivered a little as Yasha swept the comforter off of her bare shoulders and moved to sit on the couch. She drew her legs up beside her, got comfy against the arm, and held the blanket open in invitation.

Oh yes, Beau would be happy to, don't mind if she does.

She clambered up, careful to keep her coffee from spilling, and pressed against Yasha's warm side with a noise that sounded damn close to a purr as Yasha adjusted the blanket around them and planted a soft kiss on Beau's head. Her hand rested on Beau's hip, fingers stroking absentmindedly the waistband of her boxers. Beau hummed happily and squirmed closer with a sigh, taking in the room before them with half-lidded eyes.

It felt correct somehow, she thought, her hoodie tossed over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, catching the morning light and throwing a blue halo on the wall. Her leather satchel leaned against Yasha's photography bag by the door, and her running shoes perched on the other side of the tiled entry. Beau had lived for a long time - almost her whole life - ready to run. Her things stayed within arms reach, fit into a backpack so she could go at a moment's notice.

To look around now and see not just Yasha's apartment, but _their_ apartment…it was incredible, but more than that it just felt _right_.

After a while spent drowsing in the morning light, Beau extended an arm to set the now-empty mug on the end table before retreating back into the cozy space under the blanket. Yasha's hand sought hers for a moment and drew it towards her so she could gently work the leather strap of the cuff open and take it off. She saw Beau watching with a mixture of disappointment and arousal and smiled reassuringly. "Soon," she promised.

Beau turned her face into Yasha's chest, a little embarrassed at having been caught out but mostly just content to let her massage the lines left behind from sleeping like a rock before coaxing her other arm up to do the same. As mornings go, this was one of the best ways to spend one. In an hour, they'd each have places to be and days to start but for now, there was nothing in the world but Yasha's fingers interlaced with hers and the gentle weight of her arm around Beau. For now, they were in a little pocket of time carved from sun-slicked window light and a soft couch. So for now, she would soak in everything about this and let it carry her through to the next one.

_The next one._ Gods yes.


	3. Day 3: Tickling and Moonlight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord is one of the hosts for the annual daddy-daughter dance for the local middle school. He didn't really think it would bother him, and mostly it didn't. But he goes on a walk anyway and has a chat with Caduceus, and he feels a bit better when he leaves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have the faintest idea how to wrangle tickling as a kink, so have some fluff. I couldn't get a vibe lock on this for b/y so I asked myself who among the nein would be most likely to be ticklish and yeah, I'm pretty sure that's Fjord. I like the idea that he's got a boyfriend made of fur and who is also extremely cognizant and respectful of Fjord's level of sensitivity.

Fjord sat on the steps of the multipurpose/recreation building, breathing in the early autumn air and looking up at the stars. Light spilled from the windows behind him, rushing past him to fall short of the vast valley of silver grass that sprawled from the end of the concrete and on down in a wide swath. The valley itself was a kind of catch-all field; on warm afternoons, some of the BCM kids would ratchet long strands of sturdy fabric between the trees and a crowd would gather to try tightrope walking. Other times, the unofficial campus LARP group would run themselves ragged for an hour in full regalia while people paused to watch on their way to and from class. Orientation, frisbees, corn hole, you name it and it was here, and there was probably at least one guitar.

But Autumn was here now, and it was nighttime, so all the activities had dwindled or moved indoors even though the air wouldn't get properly cold here until mid-December - and even that wasn't a guarantee.

He sighed. How had he gotten roped into helping out with this event, of all of them? Lost in thought, he ran a hand through his prematurely salt-and-pepper hair and ambled down the steps towards the valley. Specifically, to the gazebo/live music stage at the base of it, right up against the woods that formed a natural barrier between the new campus dorms and the edge of campus itself.

As he walked, the light of the building faded behind him until his shadow moved from its stretch in front of him to lag just a little behind. He slipped through the trees and found the wooden bridge that forded the little creek - and on it, he saw, was a familiar face.

He smiled, forgetting everything for a moment, and just watched.

Caduceus Clay was leaned just slightly over the banister of the bridge, speaking in soft and friendly tones to one of the hundreds of campus cats that overran the property. The cats were something of a tolerated decoration; as a campus event coordinator, Fjord had helped arrange many of the traveling spay and neuter clinic visits to campus. It didn't seem to matter though - no matter how many cats they fixed, more showed up.

They weren't known for approaching anyone, but this one seemed curious about Caduceus in the kind of way he'd come to expect from their time together. Cad had a way with everything, animals included, and his eyes as he watched them in their casual interaction were soft.

Finally, the cat decided it had other things to tend to and disappeared into the brush with a farewell flick of its tail, which Caduceus responded to with a wave. He looked over and noticed Fjord standing close by with his hands in his pockets and smiled.

"Oh hey there, Fjord. I was headed to your little shindig over there and I got distracted." He moved his furry elbow so that Fjord could lean with him on the railing pressed shoulder to shoulder - an invitation that Fjord took gratefully and, after a moment, rested his head on Caduceus's. "Hard night?" His head leaned in to Fjord's just enough to be intentional.

"Yeah," Fjord confessed. "I wasn't really expecting it to be a big deal. And I guess it's not, but."

Caduceus made a hmm sound that Fjord knew meant he was probably about to make a very astute observation. "A half-orc who aged out of foster care coordinated an event for a middle school daddy-daughter dance and finds he has some mixed feelings about what he's seeing? Astounding." But Fjord could hear him smiling gently, and he was too in spite of himself. He felt Cad's tail swish up to tap him comfortingly on the back of his thigh.

"I guess I just thought I had already processed all of that."

"And that it's over forever?"

"Well…I guess. Isn't that the point?"

He bumped Fjord's hip with his own. "There's no magic hill," he said.

"Huh?"

Caduceus elaborated. "There's this misconception a lot of people have about trauma - no need to argue, this is trauma." Fjord closed his mouth. "People think it's like a mountain, where you spend years climbing and when you reach the top it's all beneath you forever and you never have to think about it again."

He hesitated. "I'm guessing you're going to tell me it doesn't work that way."

"It does not, in fact, work that way."

Fjord's mouth quirked a little at Cad's deadpan, but he still felt a little raw. "So it's just gonna stay with me forever? Pop up when I'm not expecting it?"

Caduceus lifted an arm from the railing in casual emphasis. "Oh everything stays with everybody in some way. We don't control that. All we can do is learn the best ways to respond when they come. Which," he added, "you've been doing a great job of, by the way."

Fjord smiled and rubbed his cheek along the fur of Caduceus's shoulder. "I've had some great help."

Caduceus chuckled softly, and then the silence between them grew somewhat thoughtful. Fjord waited contentedly, soaking in the feeling of the wood beneath his feet, the sound of the water, the way the moonlight revealed things in disorienting patches instead of all at once. Finally, Caduceus spoke again. "I remember going to a daddy-daughter dance, as a kid."

That wasn't anything close to what he expected to hear, and Fjord floundered a little for a moment on what he was supposed to say. "Was it…a bad memory?"

He shrugged a little. "Not so much, really. I wore a little suit, and Dad let me lead for most of it. I didn't know yet, of course - didn't have the words - so it was just sort of an offbeat chance to hang out with dad on a Tuesday night without any of my brothers and sisters."

Fjord hesitated, still feeling like an ass. "You were gonna come check on me even though…is it hard for you?"

Caduceus shifted so that his arm came up slowly and carefully to rest on Fjord's waist without accidentally tickling him, and then he pulled his head back enough to be able to look Fjord full in the face. A patch of moonlight caught the underside of his eye just right, so that Fjord was looking at a violet iris seemingly lit from the inside. "Course I was," he said. "And not so much these days. I got lucky with my family - they may not understand, but they're enthusiastic about me being happy."

He dipped his head a little so their foreheads touched. "Just like I'm enthusiastic about you being happy." He kissed Fjord's brow and stood up to his full height, leaning backwards in a small stretch. "I imagine your coworkers will be looking for you soon, so I'm gonna go back up with you and sit in the lobby with my book-" he patted his satchel - "and you can sneak me out some snacks as thanks."

Fjord couldn't help it; he surged up and placed a kiss on Caduceus's mouth. Cad didn't seem overly surprised, and he smiled when Fjord pulled back, blushing a little.

With his free hand, Caduceus gently touched the leather cord around Fjord's neck and followed where it disappeared under his shirt collar, ignoring Fjord's involuntary twitch away. Finally, his finger rested on the metal ring that hung just behind the second button of his university event staff polo. The tiny aftershocks of the ticklishness that had plagued Fjord since time immemorial faded and were replaced by the other sort of buzzing Caduceus inspired across his skin - a kind of full-body warmth and sense of his self narrowing, condensing to the point at which that furry finger anchored him. "Everything we experience becomes a part of us in some way," Caduceus said quietly. "I'm real glad I get to experience you."

Fjord swallowed that felt suspiciously like a lump in his throat and tried for a smile. "You can experience me whenever you'd like."

Caduceus's finger hooked around the metal ring and tugged just enough to budge Fjord. "Oh I know, Mr. Stone." His voice was soft, almost reverent, and that was what drove Fjord so completely crazy about it all. He belonged to this firbolg, but Caduceus only ever treated things - treated Fjord - with a kind of breathless gratitude. Like Fjord was a butterfly who had alighted on him and he would do whatever he could to meet Fjord on his terms and linger there with him.

And Fjord wanted to be the cause of that look on Caduceus's face for a long, long time.

"C'mon." Caduceus said gently, taking his hand. Fjord smiled thankfully at him, and they walked together through the silver-dripped trees into the open air and back to the bright-windowed building on the hill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I will write Caduceus as something besides a supportive and perceptive psych student, but today is not that day.
> 
> Also I feel like if I spend too much more time channeling my actual college campus for this whole college universe I've got living in my head, someone's gonna guess which one it is because these are extremely specific layout details lol.


	4. Day 4: Licking/Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's harder for Beau to stay connected to her body under high stress, and they've certainly had a lot of that in the last 48 hours. By now, she and Yasha have a routine.
> 
> Rated E, canon timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can lead a fic author to water, but you can't make them drink. It's apparently bondage day in my heart (more than usual).

Being tied up by Yasha like this was almost as meditative as it was arousing.

The moment the soft loop of rope tightened over Beau's wrist, the world had fallen obligingly away. Beau's arms were behind her back, hands loosely grasping her elbows and the soft rope slid wound around and around, ratcheting her racing thoughts closer to her body with every practiced motion. Beau inhaled slowly, feeling somehow like she could follow every molecule of air as she breathed from her stomach, noticing how it cooled her on the way in and warmed on the way out.

She was naked, on her knees before the fireplace in the room that had appeared when Yasha opened the closet that became whatever they needed. This was a small, cozy study. Stone hearth, bookshelf, dark wood desk, plush carpet against her knees - dark blue. Dark green walls, one wingback chair.

And a tall wooden frame in the shape of an X, which lurked from the corner and would not let itself go unnoticed. It wasn't for tonight, but it was there all the same and it wasn't clear which of them it had appeared for.

Beau closed her eyes, focusing on the soft hiss of rope as it slid over and under and around. The fire was warm on her exposed skin, and taken together it felt as though through the rope's touch and the fire's heat, Yasha was caressing her everywhere at once, indefinitely.

At the zenith of horny and calm, there was peace. 

Yasha's hands slid from Beau's back around to her stomach as her lips found Beau's shoulder and sucked a bruise just to the side of the ropes there. Beau's head fell back against her with a soft moan and her back arched to press herself harder into the touch of those calloused, gentle hands.

But Yasha wasn't done tying her, and after a moment of indulgence she guided Beau so that her legs uncurled before lying her on her back and pushing her knees up and out to the sides. Beau shuddered at the sensation of what should have felt like helplessness but only translated, when it was Yasha, to aching need.

Lying here this way, with Yasha unhurriedly and confidently binding her ankles to her thighs, Beau slipped in and out of time. She only existed in the places where the rope anchored her. It rooted her inside of her body in the way that was only otherwise brought about by fighting. That was why so many of her coping mechanisms came down to bloody knuckles and black eyes - it took so little to draw Beau out of the experience of her own body, and so much to bring her back.

With the ropes holding her securely, Beau could think back to the dinner, to the grave, without the fear of losing herself again. In this state, her thoughts were harmless. They were small animals to be observed as they tumbled nervously in the grass. They were to be looked after, gently herded back to the center when they strayed.

Eventually, they calmed and faded from her.

Beau's eyes fluttered open to find Yasha watching over her patiently, a hand on her hair and the other running gently from the top of Beau's knee to the ropes at the inside of her thigh. "Welcome back," she said softly.

Beau inhaled, tested her bonds, felt her body seem to light up along the touch of the silky purple ropes. "I'm here."

The hand on her thigh gripped her tighter as Yasha bent to kiss her lips and when she was like this, hyper-aware of every part of herself, it felt to Beau like she could come with nothing but a thought, like it was a foregone conclusion that had already happened, was happening in all times at once.

Yasha broke the kiss with a soft smile at the loss and need Beau knew was written across her expression, and then she moved further down Beau's field of view to sit with her knees almost touching Beau's exposed cunt. She could do anything here, set Beau off with nothing but a kiss to her dripping center.

But Yasha never rushed these times they shared. She'd just seemed to understand, even from the first time Beau had whispered "just hold me still" all those months ago, when it was something that existed outside of the flirting and the complication that defined them all. When she had asked Yasha that first time, it was because she had known - hoped, desperately - Yasha would be the only one among them who might understand that she was asking for a stillness that reached further than physical, even if she couldn't find the words. Yasha's hesitant grip pinning Beau's wrists behind her that first time had settled something lost and wandering in her immediately, leaving her feeling scraped out, hollow, clean when she'd come back.

And when they'd finally taken the steps towards building something together, intentionally, both of them unsure where to begin, this familiar ritual had been there to guide them and remind them - no matter what else they might be for each other, they were this.

Beau inhaled sharply as Yasha leaned forward, careful to avoid brushing her cunt with her knee, and licked a slow, wet line from the bottom of the rope diamond that framed her stomach to where it joined again just below her sternum. It should have turned cold, but the fire in the hearth and inside of Beau was all-encompassing and it just felt charged.

Yasha lightly gripped one of Beau's knees from underneath to pull her open wider, and then she leaned to place her mouth on the inside of it, just beside where her fingertips held Beau securely. She dragged her tongue down the muscle that immediately flexed, trembling under the sensation, and when she reached the ropes she added teeth and sucked a mark there.

Beau's breath came harsh and fast as even that level of proximity to her cunt brought her orgasm up from where it was curled somewhere under her spine. Yasha's touch vanished entirely from her legs to reappear as her hands splayed over Beau's ribs. Her arched back relaxed enough that she could pick up her head to look at Yasha, who was watching the skin under her fingers as though she were solving some kind of intricate puzzle. Beau loved being at the center of that focus.

Yasha felt Beau's eyes on her and shifted her weight so that she was leaned on a planted hand and the other was free to cup Beau's cheek, thumb resting on the corner of her mouth undemandingly.

"Do you want to come?" she asked softly, because sometimes Beau didn't. Sometimes, these sessions were simply to bring all of Beau back into her skin and keep her there a while - something like this would likely leave her sensitive and aware of herself for a whole day or two.

But tonight, the promise of release felt right. Beau wanted to go into these next few days with a fresh start, a clean slate. So she said yes, melted a little at the way Yasha took the admission for the trust that it was. Yasha leaned forward to kiss her and trailed the hand on her cheek down over her throat, to the scar in the center of her chest, on down into the frame of the rope and paused to scratch lightly just beyond, right where the first wisps of hair started. Beau twitched and gasped helplessly as Yasha's fingers spread to run down either side of her clit without touching it. She wouldn't need to - already, the heat was unspooling itself again, faster this time. The friction around her clit was all it would take, and she whimpered against Yasha's mouth as everything inside her began to gather under Yasha's fingers.

Yasha kissed the underside of her jaw. "Shhh," she said gently. "I've got you, Beau."

Coming apart slowly this way felt like dissolving, like every nerve was singing, every muscle accounted for. It was a thing that happened by degrees, and only when the breath that was lodged in her throat tore free with a gasp did Yasha place her fingers directly on Beau's clit and press down.

Beau didn't hear the long moan that poured out of her, but she felt it vibrating alongside the slow surge of everything pulsing in her, ebbing in tiny tremors that rocked her hips involuntarily against Yasha's patient hand and coaxed reflexive twitches in response. Finally they, too, subsided, and Beau lay limp and trembling and thoroughly spent on the soft blue carpet as sound slowly faded back in. She could hear the ropes snapping expertly along the blade of Yasha's knife, felt her trembling leg slide gracelessly to the floor. She was humming quietly under her breath, and Beau lay still and listened and breathed.

Eventually, Yasha slid her free arm under Beau's shoulders and hauled her up so that she was leaning forward with her head lolled against Yasha's chest. The knife made short work of the bonds on her wrists and upper arms, and when they were free Yasha brought them gently to rest on her waist.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, after they had spent several moments simply breathing together. Her fingers had soothed the dark imprints of the ropes from Beau's skin, and now they ran up and down her back as Beau leaned against her leather-sweat-flower smell.

She felt clean. A little spent, yes, but in another way charged up, replenished, reset. "I'm feeling great, Yash." She lifted her head to press her lips softly to the spot under Yasha's ear. "Thanks."

Yasha turned her head and caught Beau in another kiss, her hand wandering up over Beau's shoulders to grip the back of her neck and tangle just a little in her hair. "Bath?" she asked when they pulled back.

"Sure," said Beau. "Can I wash your hair?" She'd be happy to given an orgasm, too, but she knew that Yasha did this with her out of a sense of pride that Beau trusted her to do it. It was Yasha's call as to when or if she wanted any sexual gratification in return, but there were other ways to say thanks.

Yasha smiled gratefully. "Of course." She looked around with a slight frown. "I didn't think to ask for a bath though, did you?"

Beau groaned, but she was also laughing a little. "No, I think we're gonna have to go out and back in."

Yasha grinned at her. "Let's hope everyone's busy doing something else, hmm?"

Beau took her offered hand and stood. "I dunno," she mused. "Be kinda fun if Jester were down here."

Yasha tipped her head in acknowledgment. "Another time, maybe. I like having you all to myself like this."

Warmth spread from Beau's chest. "Nevermind," she agreed. "I hope she's having a great time drawing upstairs."

"Ready?" Yasha gripped the knob.

"Let's go."


	5. Day 6: Wet/Tranquil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord keeps vigil beside a recovering Caduceus and considers his position. 
> 
> Hurt/comfort, rated G.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look I know "wet" means something different in the context of a kink prompt, but I'm not in the mood. I just didn't want to miss a day.
> 
> Day 5 was published as a standalone fic.

Fjord traced a finger over Caduceus's brow as the firbolg slept and recovered from the effects of the magic sickness that had gripped him two nights ago, wracking him with chills and a fever that bordered on delirium. The glow of the moss in his dark, cool room seemed to swell with his breathing, a visual reassurance to Fjord that he was alright, would be alright. He had to be - Fjord couldn't imagine his family without him.

The silky white fur of Caduceus's face, soft blue in the light of the moss, had grown spiky again with sweat. Fjord picked up the cool rag lying nearby and dabbed it gently over his forehead, his cheeks, the hollows of his closed eyes.

The worst was over, but Fjord couldn't stop remembering the look of helplessness in Caduceus's eyes before he'd dropped in a dead faint beside the kitchen table. For what must have been the tenth time, he mentally thanked the Traveler for Jester's ability to dispel whatever sneaky effect Caduceus had brought back from their battle. Next time he saw Artagan, he'd thank him personally.

...Maybe.

Caduceus stirred a little, and Fjord's pulse picked up as he watched his closed eyes flutter for a moment, but they relaxed again a moment later in a return to deep sleep. He sighed, unsure if he was relieved or disappointed for his presence to continue going unnoticed.

Fjord stroked the somewhat bedraggled pink tuft of hair atop Caduceus's head and wrestled with staying until he woke or leaving before he could be seen. He wasn't yet certain if he wanted to be acknowledged like that - unmistakably, intentionally seen by Caduceus. The thought thrilled him almost as much as it frightened him.

The thing was, Caduceus had become the one Fjord looked to when he was afraid, and he hadn't noticed it happening.

So for now he would sit, and he would comfort. The rest would happen as it was meant to. For now, it was enough that he looked at peace, fever broken and slowly recovering.

For now, things were alright.


	6. Day 8: Lingerie/Warm Mugs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Beau's birthday, and Yasha has picked out a gift with her in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: Aw hell I don't know anything about lingerie.  
> *5 minutes of googling later* I still know nothing about lingerie, but now I need Yasha in it.
> 
> Beau, conveniently, does not know a lot about lingerie in this fic.

"So I was thinking lingerie, since it's your birthday."

Beau sat down at the table with her mug of coffee, quickly checking the time on her phone to be sure she had a few minutes to sit and sip. "For me?" she called back to Yasha.

"For you, yes." She heard Yash's hairbrush clatter against the bathroom sink.

"Oh, uh." Beau felt a little bad, choosing her words carefully. "I don't really do lingerie."

Yasha sounded skeptical. "Oh you don't?"

It surprised Beau that Yasha didn't know. She didn't exactly feel like the kind of girl who would do well in that kind of ensemble. "Naw," she said. "S'not - doesn't feel good. Emphasizes all the wrong things, makes me feel all weird and delicate." She paused, added, "Thanks for thinking of me though. Who told you it was my birthday?"

Probably Jester.

"Beau, we live together. I have pulled your wallet out of the washer and the dryer on multiple occasions."

She wasn't exactly upset at the thought of Yasha going through her stuff, but it seemed a little odd. "Is that really how you found out?"

"No, it was Jester."

Beau's reflection in her coffee cracked a smile.

It faded three seconds later, when Yasha stepped around the corner.

"Um," said Beau.

"If you don't like it, I can put it back." Yasha's voice was teasing, but Beau knew better than anyone what it would've taken for Yasha to go from ripped jeans and flannel to…this. She didn't know the names of fancy stuff, but she knew expensive when she saw it. And she knew jaw-dropping sexy too.

This? Was both of those things.

"You meant for you, the. On you, not me," Beau said, because 99% of her words had apparently banded together to go on strike upon being confronted by a heavily muscled goddess of a woman who was wearing strategically little clothing.

Yasha tilted her head, eyes glinting with mischief. "Still don't do lingerie?"

Beau's eyes moved all the way down and back up brazenly. "Oh I'm willing to do a lot right now."

She leaned her head back as Yasha walked towards her and picked up her mug. "Are you?" She took a sip without breaking eye contact. Gods, she even had lipstick.

Beau swallowed. "Literally anything."

Yasha's finger tapped thoughtfully against the ceramic. "Don't you have a test today?"

"Fuck it." She tried to stand up, but Yasha put a hand on her chest and pressed her back down into the chair.

"No no," she said. "Go take your exam." Beau whined and reached out to touch one of the straps on Yasha's thigh - a garter, maybe? Yasha batted her hand away. "Not until you're done and back home."

"Fuck, Yash, I'm not gonna be able to concentrate with you waiting for me here like this."

Yasha raised an eyebrow. "It's nine in the morning. Who says I'm done getting ready?"

Beau looked her over. "What do you-" her eyes caught the black metal ring in the front of the bottom piece, blended as it had been with the color of the fabric around it. Her mouth went dry immediately. "Oh," she said weakly.

Yasha pressed the button on Beau's phone to light up the display, clicking her tongue in mock disappointment. "Ooh, you'd better get going," she said. "I bet you can be back by 11, hmm?"

"10:45. It's a scantron." Beau scrambled up and pulled her shoes on, nearly falling over in the process. She slung her bag over her shoulder and reached for the door, startling when Yasha grabbed her by the hand and pulled her into a quick kiss.

"Don't keep me waiting," she said.

"I won't," Beau squeaked, breathless. Ten thirty. She could probably make it back by ten thirty. She pulled the door open, stepped out backwards to keep her eyes on Yasha as long as possible. "Bye."

She raced down the steps to the parking lot, was halfway into the car when her phone buzzed. She collapsed in the driver's seat and thumbed it on, blinking for a moment in stunned silence at the photo and the accompanying question.

She took a moment to steady her breathing and typed back furiously. "Blue. Also you're gonna be the death of me."

She was in her seat and waiting for the professor to show up before it buzzed again.

"Only if you're very good."

Christ.


	7. Day 9: Cuffs/Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau is always horny, but it's worse after narrowly escaping death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling kind of whumpy but didn't want to get too close to the ACTUAL whump draft I have going. So I kept details vague. It helped to keep me from getting lost for three hours in 2k of fic for a prompt fill!

"You found her!" Jester reached immediately for Beau's face, pouring healing into her as Yasha looked on. Her breath came hard from her sprint to get the unconscious monk up the stairs and back to the clerics - her healing hands had only been enough to buy her time.

After a tense moment, Beau's eyes flew open with a gasp. Yasha nearly fainted with relief as she watched several of the cuts and bruises visible on Beau's torso and arms fade considerably. She heard something in Beau snap back into place that made her hair stand on end, but it just elicited a grunt of relief from the monk.

"Gods, thank you Jester." Beau took a deep breath and slowly flexed her limbs, sighing in pleasure.

Veth patted at Yasha's thigh from beside Jester. "Get her down where I can reach so I can get the chains off!"

Beau rolled her head towards Veth and smiled as Yasha knelt and the thieves tools got to work. "Should keep 'em," she mused. "Could be fun under other circumstances."

Yasha felt her face flush immediately, but Veth barely paused. "You really are still out of it if you think these are any good for play," she remarked. The first shackle fell with a clatter, and she held her hand out for Jester to bring her the other over Yasha's shoulder. "Get Jester to get you some like she bought for me and Yeza."

Jester clapped excitedly. "Oooh, with the leather on the inside?"

Veth pointed a tool at her without looking up. "See? She knows."

"Oh, gods," Yasha whispered.

"Guys, please," Beau said officiously as the second shackle fell away. The bruises on her throat were still faintly visible, and her voice had a slight rasp to it. "She said we'd talk about it later."

Yasha tried to glare at her, but the relief of seeing her healed and several steps removed from the unconscious body she had found limp in a cell took any heat out of it that she may have otherwise mustered.

Which, to be fair, still would not have been much. "I may have promised some things to keep her talking after I woke her the first time," she murmured.

She glanced back up to find Veth and Jester staring at her in open awe while Beau grinned with extreme smugness. "You did?!"

"Did what?" Caleb asked as the rest of the nein appeared in the hallway behind Jester.

Now Yasha did glare at Beau, whose grin only became somewhat sheepish in response. "Nothing," Yasha said to the group. "Can we please get somewhere safe now?"

The others traded glances, but Caleb fumbled obediently for the talisman that would take them away from here.

Yasha leaned over to Jester and whispered. "How much?"

She felt Beau go instantly rigid in her arms. Jester winked at the stunned monk and whispered back. "Are you kidding? They're on me. I'll bring them by tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" Beau protested. She started to say something more, but Caleb's word cut across and then they were falling through the world, the sound of Jester's laughter echoing all the while.


	8. Day 10: Forest/Face Sitting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fjord eats Caleb out in the woods. Gently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love a good chance to play with a ship I don't usually and with a trans hc I'm keeping.

It's not that Caleb has any real issue with the forest, but as places to sit on faces go, he's seen more, ah….hygienic ones.

But it's hard to stay concentrated on things like grass stains and bugs with Fjord's clever tongue lightly massaging his clit like that, so he reaches inside himself for the mental switch he flips, the one it so often seems everyone else has built in, the one he uses to tell his body it's cold, or hungry, or that it very much likes that move Fjord's doing and so he should lean into it and not away from it.

It's a work in progress, but Fjord's hands wrapped firmly and enthusiastically around his thighs are grounding and the night air is cool on his bare chest and forehead, and it's a way to put him back in his skin, this time they spend when they can.

"Ah," he says, twitching a little as a point in him stirs to life that has so far remained dormant.

Fjord hums agreeably and chases the motion again, flicking a glance up to Caleb to make sure all is well. Caleb smiles weakly at him, chuckles a little at the cavalier wink he gets in return, and arches because oh, the reminder that Fjord is here and taking care of him helps. Caleb has a keen mind, but things get lost in translation.

He closes his eyes and tries to move his consciousness from behind his forehead to further down in his body - tries to inhabit the parts of himself he wants to glean pleasure from tonight, here, among the trees and the star-strewn sky.

He thinks of Fjord - everything he can that makes him warm on the inside. Those hands and their surety on the battlefield and on Caleb's skin, the way they never move without asking if he wants, what he wants, and how.

The roguish smile he likes to show off for Caleb - and even better, the shy one that _only_ Caleb gets to see, the one that invites him to stretch out a finger and softly rub a scarred tusk in affection.

Thinking of Fjord is an excellent move, he finds. He wonders if Fjord is thinking about him too, gently sets that thought aside in favor of imagining that clever tongue pressed against the center of him. He gasps softly as Fjord gets him just there, and then he does it again and Caleb whimpers just a little.

"Fjord…"

Fjord's fingers tighten comfortingly as he hums against Caleb in acknowledgement, slowing and centering the thrusts of his tongue to bring him up slowly, carefully. He is always so gentle with Caleb like this, and it's partially the knowledge of the strength under that tongue, a strength he keeps restrained for his sake, that drives him over the edge until he's gasping and shuddering against Fjord, whispering "please, please, oh gods, Fjord."

After, Fjord runs his fingers through Caleb's hair and presses soft kisses to his temple while he finds the component parts of himself, shakes off the dust, and puts them back together feeling slightly lighter than before. He nuzzles into Fjord's collarbone, breathes him in with his salt and his flowers and his magic, and lets himself drift.

For Caleb, that is a greater gift than the rest combined.


	9. Day 11: Wings/Hair Pulling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, Yasha's wings come when she does.

By the shaking of her thighs, Yasha knew Beau would not be long. But as every roll of her hips brought the base of the cock Yasha was wearing against her clit, she could feel her own pleasure mounting. It was only a matter of time for them both.

Above her, Beau keened as Yasha changed rhythm ever so slightly to slam up into her once, twice before resuming, and Beau's head dropped as tiny puffs of air came from the sides of the ball gag forcing her mouth open.

It absolutely wrecked Yasha, getting to see Beau like this. Blindfolded with her own sash, hands tied at the wrists behind Yasha's head with one of the sashes that came with the room, hair loose and sticking in strands to the sweat and spit on her brow, her cheeks, her jaw where it was forced open for the gag.

The chair Yasha sat in had been dreamed up by Beau between visits. Made of solid wood, its back had a latticework of bars that made excellent points to which to tie Beau's hands or anchor her collar, but tonight it was simply the best place for Yasha to sit and break Beau apart with the strap between her legs.

Beau's hands flexed, found Yasha's hair, held on as Beau's thrusts started to become more erratic, and the sensation had Yasha's vision shrouded for a moment in a haze of white as her cunt throbbed with the motion of the dildo on her clit. It was possible they were going to come within seconds of each other.

Yasha's hands on Beau's ribs tightened as a recently familiar string in her began to draw taut. She hadn't consciously reached for them, but she guessed what was coming and with the last movement she could muster, she reached up and pulled off Beau's blindfold. Beau was too far gone to question, but her eyes flicked desperately to Yasha's just as her orgasm crested and Yasha's head fell back as something in her pulled -

She dimly registered Beau's animal sound through her gag and the way her final thrusts against Yasha's thumb on her clit came to a shuddering stop a few moments later. She panted hard, eyes closed, until an odd sensation that felt of her and apart from her tugged at her awareness and she opened her eyes to find Beau staring wide-eyed at a spot just behind her. Yasha turned her head to find the line of a white wing extending out and up above her vision.

Startled, she looked left and right at the cacophony of feathers that seemed larger here in the space of Beau's room, enormous even. "Oh," she said quietly. She had felt them coming, but they still made her just a little dizzy to consider.

Beau made an absentminded "mmph" and tugged her bonds over Yasha's head to show them in a silent plea.

"You want to touch them?" Beau nodded furiously, eyes fixed on the feathers as Yasha exhaled in amusement and forced her numb fingers to pull the sash free. She undid the gag as Beau reached to run an awed hand over the top of a wing and traced a fond thumb over Beau's lips to wipe away the drool that had gathered there.

"You're amazing," Beau whispered, and Yasha felt her face turn hot. They both hissed as Beau adjusted slightly and reminded them both that Yasha's cock was still fully buried in her cunt. Beau's groan of realization echoed the throb that flickered through Yasha in response, and she turned to press her lips to the inside of Beau's arm next to her head. Beau's free hand cupped Yasha's cheek as she dragged her eyes from the wings to her face. "You've got to see this in the mirror," she said.

Yasha smiled and blushed a little deeper. "Next time," she promised. "They won't be here much longer and -" she shifted her hips a little to enjoy the way Beau shuddered. "I like sitting like this with you."

"Fuck," Beau managed. Her fingers tightening on Yasha's wing felt so strange - foreign and new and yet undeniably a part of her. Even as she tried to make sense of the possibility, she felt them become insubstantial and dissolve, leaving a vague phantom sensation in their wake.

She didn't have time to think on it as Beau's balance pitched and they both twitched at the friction. Panting, Beau pushed up against Yasha's shoulders to look at her. "Can we go again?"

Yasha's breath was only beginning to slow as she laughed. "How about you kiss me and we'll see what happens?"

Beau grinned. "Oh yeah. I can do that."


	10. Day 13: Moaning/Deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yasha likes it soft and slow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had work and dnd today - I basically called this one in. That's alright.

The multicolored lights had been an excellent idea, it turned out - Beau had looked at them in their cheap cardboard box, imagined the way they would light a room when strung from wall to wall high above... and spent the rest of the shopping trip with damp shorts.

But being here, two fingers curled in Yasha's cunt to the hilt while Yasha herself made the loveliest sounds? Yeah. Way better than she'd even imagined.

Beau pulled her fingers back slowly, almost all the way out, and slid them just as deliberately back in. It had taken Yasha months of fucking Beau senseless before she'd been willing to let Beau try and return the favor, and Beau wasn't one to screw up a chance like that.

Not these days.

Beau liked to be fucked until she couldn't see straight, and Yasha liked a long game. That was perfectly fine. Yin and Yang or whatever. Methodical building, an hour of Beau working her over inch by inch with her mouth and fingers - best way to spend an afternoon, in Beau's opinion.

Slow was the name of the game, and Beau was not accustomed to losing.

Yasha's leg twitched a little, and Beau paused, waited for her to breathe deep and nod before continuing. She was perfect like this, arms above her head and the overall pinkish color of the lights throwing shadows across the dips and swells of her hips, her breasts, the definition of the muscles that mesmerized Beau with their shifts as she placed her tongue here, or curled her fingers just a little there.

Beau had seen Yasha emerge bloody and victorious from more fights than she could count - maybe as many as Beau herself. Yasha was an explosion of energy and sheer dominating force. To see her now, pliant and soft and moaning quietly around the bottom lip between her teeth…she had been so bashful about asking for softness, so worried that hers was a speed Beau couldn't - wouldn't - meet.

For Beau's part, she couldn't imagine rushing any of this. It felt right to touch her gently - holy, she might even say if she were predisposed to that kind of thing. Touching Yasha was _sacred_.

"Do you want another?" Beau asked softly.

She felt Yasha tighten around the two fingers buried to the hilt inside her, then she shook her head. "This is good. So good."

Beau felt her own cunt tense a little at the rasp in Yasha's voice. Taken with the way her fingers were starting to knead the sheets around her and her eyes squeezing shut a little more, Beau could tell she was close.

Some nights, Yasha simply wanted Beau to touch her. No orgasm, no need for release, just Beau on her and around her and in her. Beau thought it was probably like a massage to Yasha, or a meditation. Sometimes Yasha just liked to be anchored.

But tonight, Beau could hear her breath coming a little deeper, a little faster. She saw the shadows dancing on Yasha's stomach, softly kissed the hollow of her hipbone as her fingers rocked in and out of Yasha like a precise machine tuned just for her. Tonight, she felt Yasha's walls begin to pull in tiny waves, and her tongue when it moved to Yasha's clit was a steadying, solid presence. Beau held still, pressed against Yasha when she rose up, and when the easy wave rolled over her body, Beau pressed soft kisses all the way down Yasha's thigh and worked her fingers inside for just a few more moments before pulling out and leaning up to kiss her on the lips.

"Okay?" she asked.

Yasha smiled and reached to scratch lightly at the back of Beau's head. "Always, with you."

Being soft for Yasha was tricky in that sometimes it didn't stay just within the context of sex. Beau was starting to expect the blush that came more easily to her cheeks when Yasha looked at her like that. It was almost harder to bear, that she knew exactly what she was saying and not speaking from the same lust-addled rush Beau had after her turn. She actually meant it, and she knew Yasha could feel her smile against her neck when Beau buried it.

And okay, yeah, with Yasha's fingers in her hair and Yasha's breath against her ear and Yasha's slick cooling on her fingers, Beau could admit a little softness.

With Yasha, it felt like a strength.

"The lights were a good touch," Yasha added quietly. "You were right."

Beau huffed in mock indignation, still smiling. "Course I was. I'm awesome."

"Yes," Yasha agreed seriously. Her hand traced down Beau's spine and back up. "That's definitely true."

And even though Beau had said it, she blushed deeper.

Gods, she was going to need to fight a bear after this just to balance out.


	11. Day 18: Biting/Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the morning after an impromptu night in the woods after a late movie. They got back in as the sun was coming up, they have responsibilities later in the day, but Beau just cannot be stopped.
> 
> But she can be teased to death.
> 
> Beauyasha, vaguely modern AU, rated E

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 200 words, I said. Imply, don't show, I said.

After a shower and a nap, Beau felt slightly more human as she sipped on a mug of tea at the kitchen table and considered the choices that had led to agreeing to get fucked into oblivion in the woods. If she didn't end up with poison ivy on her ass, it would be a miracle.

Still, there were few things as hot as the memory of being strung up by a rope tossed over a tree branch like the world's horniest tire swing and at the complete mercy of an enthusiastic girlfriend with teeth she knew how to use. Beau drifted her fingers over the skin of her neck and shoulder, skin prickling with delight at the echoes of pain lodged in the dark circles and half-circles that decorated her from her jaw to the inside of her knee.

She looked like a constellation of teeth marks, which was to say _fucking savaged_ , and as tired as she was, her thighs clenched a little under the hem of the sweater just to think about it.

As last-minute "fuck the consequences" ideas went, though, an impromptu all-nighter in the woods involving teeth the night/early morning before they were scheduled to meet up with other humans was…nowhere near the top of the list of the stupidest things she'd ever done, but it wasn't anywhere near her best either.

Beau didn't own a turtleneck on principle, and this was the first time she'd ever truly considered the merits of one. It was going to take so much makeup to hide these from her parents.

Oh well. Wouldn't be the first time.

She turned at the sound of footsteps in the hall and smiled as Yasha rounded the corner mid-yawn, hand in her damp hair.

"Morning." Beau made her voice extra cheerful.

Yasha's frown at her was exaggerated. "Mmrph." Beau tipped her head back with a smile to meet the kiss Yasha leaned down to give her, making a pleased sort of groan when Yasha's braced hands on her shoulders squeezed several of the bite marks in one go.

It was Yasha's turn to smile when she pulled back - looking much less sleepy, Beau noticed - and lunged suddenly for Beau's collarbone to dig her teeth in, hard.

The moan that left Beau involuntarily was frankly embarrassing in volume and level of need, and yeah she was absolutely wet again almost immediately as Yasha threw her a wink on the way to grab a mug for herself. "Sorry," she said in a very non-apologetic way. "Missed a spot last night."

Beau glared at her, breathing hard. "Then string me up and fix it the right way, huh?"

Yasha's eyes sparked from her neutral expression as she poured the tea into her mug with steady hands. She stirred in a little sugar and sucked the spoon clean before pulling it out with a small pop. "Maybe later," she said thoughtfully. "I'll let you know."

Fuck, she was unfairly hot. She'd been right to hold off on putting pants on - she would just have to change them. She bit her lip and stared down at her mug and didn't miss the way Yasha's whole body indicated a shift in attention out of the corner of her eye.

"Beau," Yasha's voice was chiding, disappointed. "Are you already that desperate? It's been four hours."

Her face flushed, which was an incredible feat since she was pretty certain all of her blood was occupied elsewhere currently. "That's a lot of hours!" She dropped her voice to a mutter. "And you started it."

"Mmmm," said Yasha. "So you weren't turned on at all when I got out here?" Beau squirmed a little and didn't look at her. Yasha kept going, her voice taking on mock offense. "Not even after a shower with me?"

"That was also your idea!"

She raised an eyebrow over her mug. "Was it?"

Beau slumped down in her chair, caught out. "No."

Yasha leaned off the counter and pulled a chair out across from Beau. "Tell you what," she said. "We've got an hour before we need to leave. I am going to sit here and enjoy this cup of tea, for an unspecified amount of time, and you have until I'm finished to get yourself off."

"Oh fuck, yeah that's no -"

"Left handed only." Beau made a noise of protest. Yasha smiled and took a sip. Beau anxiously watched how high she raised the mug before setting it down. "Right hand on the table," she said pleasantly.

Beau laid her hand flat next to the coffee mug and slipped the other quickly between her legs as Yasha took another sip, longer this time, without breaking eye contact. She frowned at her mug and glanced back up at Beau, whose heart nearly stopped.

"Better hurry."


	12. Day 19: Swings/Guest Character

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau's been stuck inside with the flu for a week and wants some fresh air. It's a fine, reasonably warm Autumn day, so Yasha obliges.
> 
> Beauyasha, Vaguely modern AU, rated G. Sheer fluff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feeling better after a week is more than I ever got but let Beau have nice things 2k20. Slapped this down after spending the evening on part 3 of the angst fic.

"You don't have to carry me, it's just a fuckin cold." Beau wrinkled her nose as Yasha pulled a beanie over her head and made sure to cover her ears.

"It's the flu," Yasha reminded her, "and I literally had to sponge bathe you this morning because you can't walk to the tub."

Beau grinned. "S'what I wanted you to think."

Yasha sighed and rubbed the top of Beau's head gently. "You never stop, do you?"

"Nope."

Yasha sat on the edge of the bed. "Tell you what," she said. "I'll get my phone out to take a video and if you can stand up and walk to the desk, I'll let you try for the door."

Beau squinted at her suspiciously, eyes going from the phone in Yasha's hand to the innocent expression on her face. "Fine," she grumbled.

"Good girl." She slipped her phone back in her pocket and helped Beau sit up. "I'm not sure what you're fussing about," she commented as she pulled a big blanket around behind Beau's shoulders and wrapped her securely. "You always want me to carry you."

Beau sniffed and tried to hide pulling the blanket closer. "S'like a cat. Likes a box til you try to put it in one."

Yasha nodded sagely. "That almost made sense."

"Told you I'm better."

Yasha shook her head and smiled, lifting Beau up in her blanket burrito in one easy movement and carrying her down the hall. She'd had the forethought to open the front door and shouldered the screen open easily.

The breeze was there to greet them immediately, a mid-October wave that stirred maple leaves across the yard with a hushed skittering sound and made the porch swing stir just a little.

"Are you warm enough?" Yasha asked.

"Hmm?" Beau tore her eyes away from the color bloomed in the trees around them. "Oh. Yeah, actually. Do we have any more of that soup Nila made? I feel like I might be able to eat something today. Maybe it'll even stay down."

Yasha eased down onto the swing and hugged Beau close. "I'll heat some up for you as soon as we go back in."

"Sounds good."

They were quiet after that, soft squeaks from the swing accenting the sound of the leaves to the rhythm of Yasha's converse pushing them gently forward and back.

For twenty minutes they took it the sight of the brilliant leaves in the afternoon light, basking in the grand display of Autumn. Beau took a deep breath and made a contented noise as an especially strong breeze whirled around them, but Yasha felt the chill of approaching evening and pulled them to a gentle stop.

Beau opened her eyes, and Yasha smiled. "Soup?"

"Fuck yes."

Yasha pressed a kiss to Beau's temple through the hat. "You got it."


	13. Day 20: Movie Night/Leash

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's October, and that means a Buffy marathon is in session. It's just as Beau remembers it - with a few key differences in experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you believe I spent half an hour looking up and asking about episodes on DVD box sets and doing math.

"You're making it hard to hear." Yasha's breath was soft on Beau's ear.

Beau, for her part, had it on excellent authority that Yasha didn't actually mind. Yasha's authority, in fact. If the dildo strapped to Yasha's thigh and thrusting in and out of her cunt with every bounce of her leg was any indication, Yasha wasn't actually terribly invested in much of the plot. Honestly, Yasha's idea to anchor the harness on her thigh instead of between her legs was turning out to be Beau's salvation and her bane.

Beau made a sound through her gag and pulled uselessly at the d-ring locking her wrists behind her back. Yasha shushed her gently and pulled on the leash wrapped around her hand so that Beau was forced to lean back as the dildo continued to fuck up into her with the wet sliding sound.

Yasha's jeans under the harness were probably soaked with Beau's slick, and the thought made her clench around the dildo just in time for Yasha to stop. Beau whined and wiggled her hips, but Yasha's arm wrapped around her waist and pinned her down. "You're gonna miss the best part," she said, and Beau looked down at the screen impatiently.

Yasha hadn't been wrong, this was the best part. The experience of watching Buffy dance with Faith in the club had been quite a rude awakening for Beau as a teen, and the experience was only enhanced by Yasha's fingers toying with her clit as they watched it now.

But also the purple dildo had been nestled inside of Beau for an hour at this point, and there was only so much a girl could take - even one like Beau. Every time Yasha moved, the cock inside of Beau did too. And with her bare back and shoulders pressed against Yasha's shirt and her thighs on either side of Yasha's black jeans, it was impossible to forget that Yasha was dressed while she was in nothing but her cuffs and collar.

She couldn't even see Yasha looking at her and she had never felt more naked.

The scene changed, and Yasha's attention split again between the TV and Beau. She dropped the leash and slid her hand over Beau's shoulder and between her breasts to pin her close, flexing her thigh just a little so that Beau's hips twitched reflexively. Her lips pressed at Beau's shoulder and worked their way up the side of her throat, scraping teeth and biting Beau's earlobe just hard enough to make her jerk.

Her other hand slid down to Beau's knee and back up the inside of her thigh, nails dragging white lines that made Beau whimper and her teeth clack uselessly against the ball gag as the marks turned hot and dark pink.

"We've got a few minutes before anything else interesting happens," Yasha murmured in her ear. She nudged her cock up into Beau with two short thrusts and smiled when Beau's eyes fluttered closed with a moan. "How about we turn you around so I can see your face while I fuck you for being so good?" She laughed and withdrew her arms as Beau nodded furiously and stood on shaky legs to turn and face Yasha before sinking eagerly back down onto the dildo with a contented sigh through her nose.

Yasha clicked her tongue in mock sympathy and used her sleeve to wipe some of the drool from her chin. And her chest. And her stomach. "You've been having a little trouble, haven't you?"

Beau huffed and rocked her hips impatiently, head falling back when Yasha set her teeth on a nipple and sucked hard. It was so fucking good, but without the friction of Yasha's thumb on her clit it was also maddening. Yasha's hands reached behind Beau's head to rest on the gag. "You're going to beg for me," she decided. "And if you do it prettily enough, I might finish fucking you before it gets interesting again. Ready?"

Beau moaned brokenly, and a moment later the ball withdrew from between her teeth.

"Tell me what you want," Yasha said, and Beau wasted no time doing just that.


	14. Day 21: Thunderstorms/Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beau fucking hates thunderstorms, and just because there's a reason doesn't make it any easier. Her girlfriend does, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was almost a very different story since the third prompt was butt plug.

It's a stupid fear, she's always known it is. But she's known a lot things that have been stupid and happened anyway, so at least this one has something of a reason. That's nice, she guesses.

But man, she's not snapped awake that scared in a while.

She realizes it's the silence that's awoken her, feels her heartbeat seize. That fucking silence, the sudden absence of the floor fan somehow louder even than the wind and rain. Stupid, stupid. It's just a thunderstorm. Beau's mind is already running through the yard, counting trees and where on the house they could hit if they fell. The weather hadn't said anything about storms tonight. Would they be able to hear a tornado siren from this house? Does this town even have a siren? 

Outside, the wind picks up, splattering hard rain against the window. Beau's heart hammers for no reason while she wrestles quietly with her mind. She can't wake Yasha for something like this, she's got a test in the morning.

Beau reaches for her phone, thumbs it on pointing away from her. Lightning a moment later, and another. She counts, grits her teeth against the rumble. A mile and a half, going by old wives tales. Coming or going?

She glances over at Yasha in the ambient light of her phone, taking in her features soft in sleep, her hair touseled against the pillow. Yasha loves storms, finds them comforting. To Beau, they just mean a sleepless night of awful memories and residual anxiety for a day.

Beau slides quietly off the edge of the bed, snagging Yasha's button-down from the floor and pulling it on over her bare skin to go stand at the bay window and look out into the yard. The neighbors' lights are all off, even the ones in the lawns. Not just them, then.

Lightning again, and she checks the trees to see how hard they're bending even though the flashing is too sporadic to make anything out. The thunder seems to come from inside of her chest, and she squeezes her eyes tight as her hands fly up to cover her ears of their own accord. She just manages to keep from dropping her phone.

"Beau?" She turns towards Yasha, able to make out her face in the dim glow.

"Sorry," Beau says. "Did I wake you?"

Yasha blinks sleepily. "Are you thunder?"

Beau cracks a smile; she can't help it. Lightning again, and thunder so close behind that Beau doesn't have time to brace. Her whole body locks up for a moment, and then strong, sleep-soft hands are on her forearms as Yasha pulls her to the bed. Beau's shivering now, which is par for the course but makes her feel ridiculous, but she lets Yasha tug her down, feels her roll over for a moment until -

Beau blinks at the sudden soft light coming from Yasha's side of the bed, and then there's a soft and yellowish ball the size of a grapefruit being presented. Yasha's long fingers are mere shadows where they cup the base.

"I picked this up after the last storm," Yasha says quietly. "You said something about the dark feeling like…like you can't see a bad thing coming. It looks like the moon," she adds when Beau just blinks slowly at it.

Beau realizes Yasha's feeling shy, wondering if she'd embarrassed her. "That's really cool," she assures her, because it is. She extends her hand to take it from Yasha, and neither of them comment on the way it shakes as she examines the sphere. "You bought this for me?"

Yasha nods hesitantly in the light, the shadows of her face and hair making her look all at once younger and somehow intimidating, like Beau's dating the hot monster under her bed.

And that feels way more badass than what's actually going on, so she says, "Um, thanks. Can we…leave it on?"

"Of course." As Yasha reaches for the light to set it on the night stand, the wind kicks up hard and Beau stiffens again. She hates that noise. It's awful. It's the noise a harmless thunderstorm makes right before it becomes a tornado, right before everything turns on its head and the trees in the yard begin to shriek as they break in half.

The Oak would shriek, if it came to it. All the ones in Beau's yard had.

It's funny - she has a list of memories as long as her arm of all her father's awful moments, but she's never been able to forget standing in the middle of the living room of the cabin-like house in the woods, fourteen, held tight against his chest as all around them the trees in yard screamed in a hellish chorus and snapped. The wind was so loud that they couldn't even hear them hit the ground. Multiple tons of wood falling over and over, and nothing but screaming and the wind.

She lets Yasha pull her close and lay them down, breathes hard against Yasha's collarbone and struggles to get control of herself as strong fingers press at the locked muscles in her shoulders. She can't relax. The button to make it happen just isn't there.

"it's just a storm," Yasha says gently, because Beau reluctantly told her it helps, last time. It helps to be reminded that storms turning into violent natural cataclysms is the exception, not the norm. Most storms are just storms.

Yasha begins to hum quietly, her fingers roving over the shirt on Beau's back and pressing, kneading, rubbing small circles. She's patient like she is with everything, with nothing more than Beau, and finally the combination of the soft light, the humming, and the feeling of protection results in Beau's shoulders crawling down from her ears by degrees.

She wants to apologize for keeping Yasha awake, but her eyes are too heavy and there's a warmth spreading through her that has a powerful exhaustion in its wake. "Thank you," she murmurs instead, and she's only awake for the second it takes Yasha to drop a kiss on her head in response.


	15. Day 23: Bread/Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breakast in bed and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote 4000 words today but it's getting more reviewing before I put it out here lol. So this was a quick and dirty cute thing to fill the prompt.

"Oh shit! Breakfast in bed?" Beau sat up happily as Yasha rolled her eyes and handed her half a bagel slathered in peanut butter. She set a glass of water on the night stand and sat on the edge of the bed, smiling at Beau as she took a big bite and then scrunched her nose when she predictably got some stuck to it. "What's the occasion?" she mumbled through her bite.

Yasha's face creased into a soft laugh, and she leaned over to swipe the peanut butter off Beau's nose before licking it off thoughtlessly. "No real occasion," she said. "I just came in early and you were still asleep."

Beau's gaze had gone a little slack at Yasha's casual lick; she pulled herself back to the present and met Yasha's gaze with a big grin. "And I was so cute you wanted to make me breakfast," she guessed.

"Not too far off," Yasha agreed. She reached for the covers on Beau's lap and pulled them back slowly, smiling at the way Beau's pupils got bigger and bigger. "I also really wanted to fuck you," she said. "So I figured I'd bribe my way into your…good graces?" Her fingers traced up the inside of Beau's calf to the edge of her sleep shorts.

It never failed to make Yasha's heart squeeze - she could touch Beau as often as she wanted, days in a row, and Beau still looked amazed when Yasha expressed the desire to do so again. She prowled forwards, savoring the way Beau's mouth hung open just slightly, and rested her hands on Beau's waistband. "What do you say?"

Beau's voice was rough, a little high. "Please? Now?" Yasha was still laughing when her lips met Beau's, fingers hooking into the shorts and tugging as Beau pulled her knees up to help. She made a tiny noise of need when Yasha pulled her lips away to smile and move down her body, taking the shorts with her.

"Put your knees up for me again, won't you?" she coaxed. Beau complied beautifully, and Yasha propped herself up delightedly on her elbows right under her. She looked up, over her stomach and her small, perfect breasts and past the half-eaten bagel in her fingers. She dropped her gaze to the tangle of dark curls before her; this soon after waking, Beau would need a little help getting going. But not much. She reached up and smoothed a strand of Beau's sleep-mussed hair before dropping her tongue to Beau's folds and getting to work.


	16. Day 27: Candy/shibari/deity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes you make plans when you have energy that just isn't there when it comes time to execute them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now I want apples baked with red hots in them.

Yasha slipped into the kitchen and took a moment to just watch as Beau concentrated on her task, tongue poking just slightly out as she braced one wrist with the other hand and squeezed the icing from the bag onto the cooled cookies on the sheet spread across the counter below like an unfurled map of sugar. Her brow was furrowed and the one strand of hair that refused to stay in her bun danced just at the side of her cheek - from here, Yasha could see the tiniest dab of orange at the end of it.

She waited until Beau had finished decorating with the color in her hand to step fully into the kitchen where Beau could see her, smiling when Beau's expression transformed like a window shade snapping open into a delighted grin.

"Hey Yash!" She looked like a little kid eager to show off what she'd made. Yasha dropped her school bag next to the table with a wave and shrugged out of her overcoat as Beau said, "I got started early, but I saved you some blank ones for you to decorate."

Yasha stepped in close to lean and take Beau in her arms from behind, pulling her against her chest and sighing contentedly into her hair. "I like when you decorate them," she murmured, breathing in Beau's smell, "but thank you."

Beau's free hand came up to hold Yasha's arm against her. She looked up for a kiss Yasha was all too pleased to return, her hair falling in a veil and a smile tugging at her when she tasted frosting on Beau's lips. "You've been sampling," she admonished.

"Quality control," Beau protested, but it was thin. "What if the recipe changed suddenly?" She pulled back to look up a little when Yasha just huffed against her neck. "You doing okay?" Her rough fingers stroked Yasha's cheek and she leaned into them, eyes closing.

"Long day," Yasha replied. "Glad to be home."

Beau reached into a little baggy of tiny red candies and fished one out to hold up to her. "Red hot?"

Yasha leaned forward and took the candy and the tips of Beau's fingers in her mouth, running her tongue up between the pads of Beau's thumb and forefinger before pulling back with the proffered candy. "Thanks," she said at Beau's slightly slack-jawed expression. It never got old, the way Beau treated every touch like it was a gift she hadn't expected.

The hand wrapped around Beau's waist shifted to run a thumb along the underside of her shirt's hem, and Yasha hummed contentedly at the sensation of the thin, silky ropes that crisscrossed Beau's body and ran from shoulder to thigh. Beau shuddered against her and reached behind to find Yasha's belt loops. It was her favorite place to put her hands when she was trying not to get in the way of Yasha's touches, and the knowledge that a simple caress of the ropes was enough to prompt preventative measures had Yasha's tired body stirring just a little.

She slid a finger under one of the ropes and tugged just slightly, and Beau's head leaned back to rest on her shoulder. Yasha pressed a kiss to her neck, and then another, scraping teeth just gently. "How did it feel today?" she asked. Beau knew what she meant, but Yasha tugged a little on another strand just to hear Beau's breathing catch slightly in her ear.

"Felt good," Beau said. "Like you were there and touching me even though I was across campus."

Yasha made a satisfied noise and nipped at Beau's jaw just a little. "How did it feel?" she asked. "To sit in lecture hall and know that anyone could see the rope if you moved just right?"

Beau huffed a laugh. "Do you know how hard it was not to just fuckin announce it?" she said. "It just gave me the weirdest urge to show it off. Let everyone - ah - know I belonged to you." Yasha soothed the tiny bruise she'd sucked behind Beau's ear and briefly entertained the thought of what it might be like, seeing Beau in a crop top designed to show off the latticework of purple rope.

"All day hmm?" she said against the side of Beau's neck. "You must be all tired of how it feels by now, maybe I should stop touching you."

A tug on her belt loops. "Or maybe you should stop being so gentle and touch me like you mean it," Beau countered.

Yasha pulled back and raised an eyebrow. Beau stared back at her defiantly, a smile tugging at her mouth. "Why Beau," Yasha said in mock offense. "I'm always gentle. What could you possibly be asking of me?" Her fingers stilled where they had moved inside the waistband of Beau's soft pants to scratch lightly at the trail of hair there. She did her best to stifle the yawn rising up in her and again cursed the extra lab she'd added on to her schedule last-minute.

Beau pressed her hips against Yasha's hand, but her lips were soft and undemanding on Yasha's jaw. "Whatever you feel like giving, honestly," she said.

It made Yasha feel known, for Beau to have spent her day in classes, keenly aware of the rope harness, waiting for Yasha to come home, only to back down and give Yasha the space to decide what to do when it was clear that this morning's plans had gotten a little bogged down in the day-to-day. Warmth and light spread behind Yasha's ribs as she dropped a kiss on Beau's head.

"I'm going to change," she said, "maybe shower, then eat something. Think you can hold on for that?"

Beau smiled. "I've made it this long. And besides -" she nodded to the stove. "I have to take those cookies out in ten minutes."

"Oh we should definitely wait then," Yasha agreed. "I plan to spend much more than ten minutes on you." She slid her middle finger through Beau's curls along her slit and smiled at the sensation of wetness and the way Beau bit her bottom lip.

"Gods, Yash," Beau rasped. "You'd better add on ten more just for that."

Yasha slid her slick finger up Beau's stomach, dragging it over skin and rope to circle her nipple in its harness just once. "We'll see."

She pressed a final, chaste kiss to Beau's cheek and leaned away, glancing over her shoulder to catch Beau's smile as she turned down the hall. Comfy clothes, shower, food, Beau. It seemed like a lot, she thought. Maybe the shower could wait.

Or maybe Beau could. She'd figure it out as she went.


	17. Day 29: Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There were other prompts. They didn't fit. Here, have two lesbians staring at each other in a diner intensely. It's what's on the menu.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're looking for an explanation...me too.

She wants to touch the cut over Yasha's cheekbone. Maybe poke it, hard. She doesn't know. Beau's fists ball in the pocket of her sleeveless hoodie as she stares down the woman before her, perched insolently on the edge of a table with the sole of one black boot bending the white border of the booth's vinyl into a kind of smile. The tired fluorescent lights tangle in her wild hair and don't quite reach her eyes, darkened inside and out by makeup and something Beau can't quantify.

She can see the motorcycle through the window, the blue and pink neon stripes of the diner plucked and pasted at crazy and curving angles on the flashes of chrome. A helmet gazes blankly at her from the seat. It matches the one on the table behind Yasha, as close to an invitation as she's going to give.

Yasha makes every move like it's a contemplation, like her thoughts don't just live in her head but crawl along inside of her veins. If Beau looks hard enough at those split knuckles, she imagines she might glean a better idea of what's going on between those cuffed and studded ears.

"So what's your plan," Beau says, and it's a statement because a question would give her away and she's not even certain yet what game she's playing.

Yasha digs a slow bite off her pie and doesn't break eye contact until she's swallowed it, and it's just a flick back from the plate to Beau. She'd waited for Beau to talk before taking another bite.

It's driving her wild. Anger, maybe, but a response to something else. The soft clicking of the ceiling fans feel like they're echoing in her nerves, making them twitch along a live wire like an electric pulse.

"Just passing through," Yasha says blithely. There's cherry filling on her upper lip, just a speck. It matches the split under her eye. "Going for a ride in the hills."

It's 10:30 at night in the desert. Beau believes her, just as much as she believes she'll do it whether Beau comes along or not.

"You know what I mean."

"Mmm," Yasha says. The hand holding her fork makes its way under her chin to prop it up. The fork juts out from the side, flashes red and silver in the light like a worn dagger. "I'm afraid I don't."

Beau could probably kiss her hard enough to hurt if she wanted. Play her own game, take the step of distance between them, pick up her plate and set it neatly aside on the booth, then dig the fingers of one hand into her shoulder and the other in that mess of hair. Lick that cherry filling off and replace it with a bite just hard enough to make her do something about it.

"They're talking about you," she says instead. Cuts her eyes to the window - _them, the others_ \- and back.

Yasha's whole body moves to smirk; she leans back with it, tilts her chin up, looks at Beau through those shadowed eyes as her face transforms with it. "Yeah?"

Something low and hot shudders and starts to coil in Beau's gut. A summer night in a sand-scuffed piece of shit highway diner, the cooled and dried sweat from her shift prickling under the skin again.

"Saying you're trouble." Can she hear Beau? The wet hot pulse of her, the quickening pitch of her thoughts, the way she sometimes feels she's relying on the ground to hold her still?

Another bite, and Beau isn't imagining the intent in the muscles of those forearms. Latent power, thrumming and restrained and very much for Beau's benefit. There's a stain on the rolled-up cuff of the flannel, something dark and indistinct against the teal of it. The fork slides from the center of Yasha's smile, and then it's a grin with teeth. "You looking for trouble?"

The hair on the back of Beau's neck stirs. "Always."

Yasha's smile melts into something hungrier as dark, mismatched eyes search Beau's face, dip into every hollow of every shadow and leave her feeling on display. In Beau's periphery, the flash of skin under the knee of Yasha's ripped jeans starts to pour towards the ground - it's the fulcrum that brings the rest of her up and forward and in Beau's space like an inevitability. Beau hears the vinyl sigh in release, the plate clack softly just once on the table. She can't see past the rumpled shoulders echoing her breathing back to her, the line of a jaw made sharp with shadow.

Beau smells cherry and ozone, can feel Yasha's body heat on her bare arms. She lifts her chin, more of a dare than an invitation, and Yasha's lips brush her ear when she leans forward to murmur, "that's my girl."

She plucks the helmet off the table from underneath and leaves Beau standing ramrod straight front of the empty booth, feeling like Yasha took her breath with her - like she's run a mile or could do three. Every nerve is awake; her eyes feel like lamps of a headlight as she grips the plate with shaky fingers and carries it to the kitchen. Dishie nods goodbye, his headphones leaking tinny thrash metal into the air around him, and then she's through the threshold and out in the night.

The air is warm behind her teeth and in her throat, shallow and thin. The door clicks shut behind her, and a roar kicks to life just before the darkness stretching past the parking lot splits under the assault of a headlight.

Maybe it is possible, Beau thinks. To leave here. Maybe she'll find out tonight.

It'll be something, at least, to try.


	18. Day 31: Fin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Got a prompt for a modern dance club AU, had some fun with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt series has been so much fun! Time for a short writing break to re-center, and then I'll be back.

Yasha leaned on a table and sipped her smoky purple drink as she ran a practiced eye along the crowds to look for trouble. Partly it was an old habit - she hadn't been a bouncer in a couple years, not since Molly quit working at the club downtown - and partly she was just a little bored.

This kind of dancing had its place, she knew. She even knew how to do most of the moves, though it wasn't something she advertised and usually only came after several strong drinks.

But the dancing scene, when it was like this, was just so much. Sweat and fabric and shouting and jumping, and there was a sort of expectation going in, an implied consent to be jostled, ribbed, stepped on, even elbowed if you weren't Yasha's height. She smiled a little as she sipped. How many bloody noses had she cleaned up on Molly?

She liked a good bonfire, a bunch of people letting loose like this in a more open space but still contained in their limited dome of light. She liked how the shadows flickered, the warmth and depth they brought to people's features like a mask and a reveal all at once. She liked the thrill that pulled on her instincts, the little undercurrent of fear that there was more beyond the reach of the light than they might imagine, and the reminder that almost none of it was friendly.

The lights here were cool tones, sweeping over shoulders and hair and jewelry and thighs. Nothing was hidden, only shuffled, and for now she was content to stand here and sip on this drink, her third of the night.

It amused her that Beau was just as reluctant, but in a different way. Beau was bad at starting things and had a self conscious streak she kept hidden. She also didn't need nearly as much bracing before charging in. She'd slammed two beers, stolen a sip of Yasha's first drink, and kissed her on the cheek before melting into the skin soup to let the crowd's movements take her before she could overthink it.

Yasha's eye caught Jester's, who was having an excellent time in with her back against the chest of a deeply flustered but pleased-looking Fjord, and waved back with a smile when Jester beamed excitedly and pointed to his hands on her hips. Jester was why they were here - a somewhat haphazard plan to get the two of them in a position to touch each other naturally and break the seal a little. It was clear that Fjord liked her. He just needed a push.

Watching them now, it looked like the plan was going swimmingly.

Speaking of swimming, Yasha could feel a good buzz beginning to work its way through her right on cue. She might have obscure taste in dance venues, but she'd dressed for anything. Be a shame not to let these pants have their moment under the lights.

She polished off her drink and started looking around for Beau. Seeing Fjord uncertain where to put his hands, all the potential they still had ahead of them for the evening - it reminded Yasha that she knew where hers went and that this was her first time out with someone she very much wanted to put them on.

More every second, actually.

Yasha pushed back from the table she was leaned on and scanned. Beau was small, but very loud in her movements, a singular kind of - yep, there she was, hands up and lost in the rhythm. Yasha's heart jammed in her throat as she watched. She hadn't considered what she might be missing out on, and Beau was absolutely magnetic.

She was sandwiched between two women, the three of them making a strange tangle under the changing colors and patterns overhead. The one behind Beau, taller than her, ran long arms down over Beau's ribs and exposed midriff while one of Beau's hands rested on the woman's dark and shiny hair, grasping lightly. Her other arm lay on the shoulder of the shorter, stockier woman in front of her who was leaned in with only enough space between them for Beau to drop between them to the ground and come back up slow, dragging her ass along the slender thigh braced behind her.

Yasha's own thigh ached with a phantom sensation, and a throbbing started in her ears and chest as the shorter woman in the button down got in closer to roll her hips in a slow grind on Beau's jeans. Yasha watched Beau seem to ripple and lean into them simultaneously, hands going all the way up the air.

For the first time, Yasha considered what she and Beau might look like from the outside while they were fucking. A very large and suddenly very _hungry_ part of her that thought it probably looked a lot like this.

The tall one made eye contact with Yasha and smiled before leaning down to Beau's ear. Yasha didn't have a hope of reading her lips, but whatever she said made Beau grin and press harder against her, and then the throbbing was there between her thighs and in her thoughts and Yasha was moving towards them without the faintest idea yet of what she planned to do.

Forget campfires and their lights. Yasha was burning. 

****************

Beau had forgotten how much fun it was to dance, to turn off her mind and just move and melt in with the bounce and throb of the music and the energy around her. She'd been delighted to run into Keg and Calianna, even more so to find they were together, apparently, and gods how long had it been since she'd been out to see them?

It had been a short conversation, but she'd pointed Yasha out to a downright filthy whistle of approval from Keg and an immediate demand from Calianna, loud over the music: "what is six feet of solid muscle and gravitas like that doing over there and not with you?"

"She's a little harder to get going," Beau had shouted back. "I'll go see how she's feeling after that drink."

"I got a better idea," Keg said, grabbing Beau's hand and pressing it to her waist. She jerked her chin to Yasha, grinning. "She the jealous type?"

Beau considered, a smile of her own making its way across her face. "She's certainly visual."

"Fantastic," Keg called. "Cali, get behind her and let's move up closer to the tables. Bet we can get her out here all by herself."

Cali had a sweet face and a temperament to match, but sweet people without a bite weren't Keg's type. Cali's hands went to Beau's hips immediately as she slid behind her, and the only thing hotter than being here between the two of them was thinking about it driving Yasha absolutely wild.

She had forgotten about almost anything but the pleasure of moving and touching and sliding when Calianna's voice made it to her ear. "She's seen us and she's definitely headed our way."

Beau grinned and grasped the back of Keg's hair as she pressed up against Cali and dropped again, this time to run her free hand down Keg's arm in the way she knew she liked. Calianna's hands on her hips tightened just a little and a thrill shot through Beau as she pushed against Cali's thigh and felt her press back - it made something in her feel molten, that they were enjoying this as much as she was.

Keg's eyes flicked over Beau's shoulder and back as she grinned with sharp teeth. "Your ride's here," she called. She looked back to Yasha as the hand wrapped around the back of Beau's neck tightened and released. "Or maybe she's _your_ ride."

Calianna's fingers gave a final squeeze to Beau's hips and vanished, and then Beau's thoughts halted completely when new and decidedly familiar hands dropped to the insides of her thighs and dragged up. Yasha's unyielding body pressed against Beau's sweaty back and oh _gods_ had she known what it would feel like to have Yasha grinding on her like this she would have told Keg to stuff it and dragged her out here way sooner.

"Thank you very much, ladies." Yasha's voice hardly sounded raised, but it carried easily over the noise around them. "I've got it from here." Beau very suddenly remembered something about Yasha being a bouncer before.

"Fuck yeah!" Keg shouted, laughing at the look on Beau's face as she grabbed Cali's hand and pulled her close. Beau had a split second of time and presence of mind to low five Keg's other hand, and then Yasha's hips were on her ass and her mouth was at Beau's ear. "Don't stop on my account," she said, and it was not a request.

Beau's hands came up to tangle in Yasha's hair with a grin even as she struggled to resume breathing normally. "Bout time," she said over her shoulder. "I was getting ready to call it a night." It was a lie that Yasha wasn't meant to believe for a moment.

"Less talking." Yasha's voice cracked and Beau very nearly tripped over herself with the raw need that dripped from the seam of it. "I want you dancing with me," she continued in that tone she'd used on Keg and Cali, "and if you are very good, I will _maybe_ stop myself from doing something terribly indecent and embarrassing to you right here in front of everyone and haul us outside first."

Beau's knees buckled just slightly, but she went nowhere with Yasha's hands holding her up under her hipbones. "Holy fuck," she gasped, feet scrabbling again for purchase - but whether Yasha heard her or not didn't matter.


	19. Day 31 BONUS: Orgasm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Author turned themself on! Bonus chapter for everybody.
> 
> As Ethereal_Bear put it, "everything you wanted in part 1 and thought you wouldn't get."
> 
> Consent explicitly negotiated before scene begins and described in more detail further in. Basically Beau's got a signal for when she's looking to get absolutely wrecked and it's not a guarantee Yasha will, but boy does she tonight.

"Tell me what was going on in that pretty little head of yours when you pulled your friends into this." Yasha's lips are bruising on the side of Beau's throat, her hand under Beau's shirt rough where she's trapped a nipple between her fingers and is kneading, hard. Yasha's made good on her promise, and they're in the alley it took fifteen minutes to search down, and it's time for Beau to get wrecked.

Beau whines, gasps when the hand planted on the wall beside her head shifts to an arm bar across the tops of her shoulders. "I wanted - ah! - you to see what you were missing and join us."

Yasha's teeth scrape her jaw hard enough the she knows it'll still be red tomorrow. Beau's knees have already given out; Yasha's thigh wedged between hers is all that's holding her up against this wall.

The stars above are clear and cold, and looking at them gives Yasha more of the pulse under her skin to suck and nip in between words. "You wanted to make me jealous, didn't you." She rolls the nipple and Beau _keens_ , unheeding of who might come across them in this dim alley leading to nowhere.

"Yes," she gasps. "Shit, Yasha. I wanted you - fuck - to notice and -"

"Claim you?" Yasha growls. Her eyes in the distant streetlight are so, so dark. Beau thinks she might break with it.

Her voice is a whisper. "Yes."

She's wearing the leather jacket Yasha likes on her, the one she wears when she's hoping to get roughed up. It's a solidly made jacket, is the thing, holds its shape very well. When Yasha grabs her by the front of it and lifts her so that her feet dangle and pushes her up so they're eye level, they can trust it will hold her even when both of Beau's hands reach up to grasp Yasha's wrists in reflex.

"Do you know what you're asking?" Yasha's voice is soft, almost malevolent. Beau nods furiously - her voice is gone. "Good," says Yasha, and drops her.

Beau's legs collapse immediately and she falls to her knees, looking up at Yasha and trembling, just a little.

"Please." She's not even certain if her mouth shaped the word, if there was any voice behind it even if she had. But it's there on her face all the same, she knows, because Yasha's smirking just a little down at her, and she knows what's coming next but it doesn't stop her stomach from swooping when Yasha leans forward and seizes her by the front of that jacket and hauls her up against the opposite wall hard enough to make her teeth jar. Beau's eyes roll just a little with the feeling and this time when Yasha drops her she catches Beau in a semi-standing position and twists a hand in her hair before kissing her hard. Beau whimpers into her mouth and reaches to brace her hand on Yasha's bicep, but she's batted viciously away and the hand slammed against the wall to pin her there.

Her whole world is Yasha. Anyone could be passing by, peering in, taking a piss. She would have no way of knowing. There is the sting of small scratches on the backs of her knuckles from the wall, Yasha's grip hard on her wrist, Yasha's hand in her hair, and Yasha's lips on hers. She can smell only Yasha's sweat and faint musk, hear only her own breath loud in her ears and Yasha's words, see nothing but those magical and shadowed eyes when Yasha pulls away.

"I'm going to fuck you right here." She's breathing deep and slow to Beau's shallow gasps, eyes wandering from Beau's hazed eyes to her rumpled shirt under her jacket and to the two damp stains she knows are visible on her jeans at the knees. "I'm going to put my hand in your pants and take you against this filthy, cold wall, and you are going to be quiet." Her knee jerks up against Beau's cunt and a distantly embarrassing squeak comes from her mouth.

"Or don't be quiet," Yasha says. "That's fine too. Let anyone hear - let them know you're mine."

Beau is barely processing words at this point, but she manages a nod. "Yours."

Yasha wastes no time making good on her promise; Beau's jeans are wrenched open with one hand and the fly pulled down, and Beau throbs with the possessive, almost needy sound Yasha makes when she sees Beau isn't wearing any underwear.

A spare thought that halfway ruins Beau right then and there: _she's_ the reason this is happening. Yasha does this - is doing this - for _her_. Yasha would no sooner toss Beau around of her own volition than she'd kick a puppy, but she _knows_ Beau - knows what the jacket means, knows not to ask Beau what she wants and give her the chance to overthink everything. She knows to keep her nailed down right here into this moment and this is all for _Beau_. 

It's because it's what Beau wants that two of Yasha's fingers are running up her slit and gathering, from an obscene amount of slick, the lubrication to begin working mercilessly against her clit. Yasha won't dally; the profane wet noises coming from between Beau's legs as she struggles to stay upright and swallow the sounds rising up in her - those are the icing on the cake. They're what seal the deal and release the scene. It's everything that came before and everything that will come after that makes this something Beau wants sometimes more than anything.

A noise spills from her that's too loud, that anyone could hear if they were around the corner, and Yasha's lips are covering hers to catch the next one, and the next, the muffled wails as her orgasm rips through her at Yasha's hand.

And then it's over, and then the aftershocks fade, and then Yasha's hand slides from under her and the other releases her wrist to join it in getting Beau's pants closed again and zipped, and those hands are nothing but gentleness and care - the storm broken, the rain that hushes gently in its wake. Yasha enfolds her in those powerful arms and just holds her as she pants and shakes, tracing gentle patterns above her waistband and murmuring into her ear about how good she was, how honored it makes her to be trusted with Beau's wants.

When Beau can think clearly again and stand without trembling, Yasha backs up just the couple of inches she knows Beau needs to be able to suck in the late fall air and finish putting herself back together. Beau puts her hand over Yasha's where it cups her face and looks up at her, smiling shyly at the awe and pride she finds looking back at her.

"You're amazing," Yasha whispers. "Can I kiss you?"

Beau takes stock of her lips, nods and says "softly" even though this part is only ever softness. This is the part where Yasha gets to rebound and settle back into her favored treatment of Beau - not like she's fragile, but like she's something precious entrusted to Yasha for safekeeping and she would trade the world or burn it to see that promise kept. It makes Beau feel safer than anything, a bone-deep security that can only reach her like this, when her ability to rationalize her way out of it is shattered.

It might be the best thing she's ever known, and yet it's Yasha looking at her with that _wonder_.

"Let's go home." Beau allows a gentle emphasis on the last word.

Yasha hugs her, lightly. "I've already called the Uber. Two minutes left."

Of course she has. Taken care of, that's Yasha's whole thing. Beau leans up to plant a kiss on Yasha's jaw. "Shower when we get home?" This is what Yasha wants from all this, the chance to take care of Beau and put her back together again. She takes Beau apart because she asks her to, yes, but also because her reward comes in the form of being allowed to see Beau, really see what's left when the walls are down.

"Yes please," Yasha says. "And if you're still awake, I'll make us something hot to drink after."

Beau smiles as Yasha catches sight of a car making its way slowly the street towards them and flicks her gaze from her phone to the car, her arm never wavering from around Beau's waist.

"Sounds great," Beau replies, still smiling. And it does.


End file.
